Grandma got run over by a reindeer
by Ratin8tor
Summary: Grandma got run over by a reindeer, and it's up to Sherlock Holmes to investigate her death.
1. Chapter 1

"Thanks for coming," said Detective Lestrade, as he nursed the rapidly cooling coffee between his frozen hands.

"What else was I suppose to do today?" said Sherlock Holmes in a way that most strangers would think was rhetorical, but most colleagues understood was somewhat literal.

"It's Christmas, Sherlock," prompted John Watson, more out of curiosity for the reaction than a genuine attempt to make a breakthrough.

"And?" said Sherlock obliviously, failing to see the point much the same way a no-armed man fails to gesture one.

"What's the case?" asked John, as the two of them were led underneath the police rope.

"Murder," said Lestrade, pointing to the corpse lying on the pavement. "Victim is one Elmo Trigg. She was found this morning lying here. Cause of death seems to be a blow to the head of some sort. We're thinking that she was trampled to death by some sort of escaped horse."

"No," said Sherlock.

"It was only a thought," said Lestrade.

"Be sensible man," said Sherlock. "If she was trampled there'd be multiple hoove-marks on the body. Instead there is just one on her forehead. No, someone managed to bludgeon her with a horseshoe of some sorts. Would have taken several attempts to kill her."

"Then she must have known her attacker," said John. "Given that the hoof-prints are in the forehead, she must have seen who had done it."

"Mmm, I was wondering if you'd notice that," said Sherlock absently, before dropping down to his knees and sniffing the corpse. Lestrade couldn't help but wince, whereas John just learned to go with it.

"Eggnog," Sherlock said, examining the body closely. "Clearly she was intoxicated. Also, notice how much blood there is."

"Yeah, that does seem to be an unusual amount," said John. "Maybe she has hemophilia?"

"A likely possibility," said Sherlock, putting on some gloves and examining her pockets. He found a few bandages, a medical bracelet, but most crucially...

"If she was, it would be unlikely for her to not take her medication with her," he said, as he stood up. "Clearly the killer knew this and made sure she didn't have any on her during the attack."

"Certainly make her easier to kill," John replied. "Internal hemorrhaging could be caused by a simple bump to the head, a deliberate attack like this would have killed her in moments."

"So who killed her?" asked Lestrade. "Aside from someone she knew?"

"She had to be nearby," Sherlock replied, looking down the end of the street. "In her state she wouldn't have risked the walk if she wasn't a short distance. Clearly whoever attacked her must have seen her leave and followed her. Investigate the family, see if they were having a party at the time."

"Right-o," said Lestrade, as he nodded to the ambulance crew to remove the body. Gently they lifted the corpse up, Sherlock watching them doing it. Something in the snow caught his eye.

"Wait!" he cried urgently. The two men paused, confused by the strange black-coat man who was now hurriedly pawing at the body.

"Help me turn her over," he said with a voice that both men thought would be unwise to resist. Delicately they flipped the old lady, only to find on her back...

"What is it, Sherlock?" said John, as he examined the bloody mark on her back. He glanced at where the body had been, the snow glistening with blood.

"I've seen this mark before," said Sherlock. "It's the incriminating Claus mark."

"The what?" said Lestrade.

"Gentlemen, I fear that this is a danger none of you are ready to face," said Sherlock grimly, as he stepped away from the body and removed his gloves. "For you see, I'm very much afraid that... Well, that Santa Clause is coming to town!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I see..." said John slowly, as he gave his friend a quizzical look. "Well he shouldn't be too hard to find, he tends to frequent department stores at this time of the year."

"No not that Santa Claus," said Sherlock grumpily. "We're not talking about a man pretending to be Father Christmas. I'm talking about the Santa Clause Killer."

Leverton and John glanced at each other, wondering whether Sherlock had tried eggnog for the first time and this was the result. Sherlock glanced at the two men before rolling his eyes in frustration.

"The Santa Clause Killer is a hitman that specializes in themed assassinations," explained Sherlock. "Once a year he will accept any contract that takes his fancy, and go out of his way to theme his crime to a Christmas icon."

"So, what?" asked John. "Jingle bells?"

"The victim had bells shoved down his throat," replied Sherlock.

"Deck the halls?" asked Leverton.

"With his entrails, yes."

"Last Christmas?" said John, as the song materialized in his head the same way it materializes in everyone's at that time of year.

"The song mentions taking hearts, doesn't it?" Sherlock said grimly. "Still, this does changes things. Knowing that the Santa Clause killer behind it makes this a lot easier."

"It does?" asked Leverton, still trying to keep up with a conversation that had rapidly left the station before he had got on board.

"She was attacked from the front, correct? That means she must have been approached by someone she knew, someone she trusted. And who do you trust more than anyone at this time of the year?"

"You're saying the killer was dressed as Santa?" said John, slowly catching up with Sherlock's train of thought. Sherlock let out a grin, partly of pride in his accomplice's skills, mostly in arrogance in teaching him so well.

"Who wouldn't want to approach Santa?" Sherlock said. "Kindly old man, probably asking for donations. Next thing she knew she was being bludgeoned with a horseshoe as part of a tiresome gimmick."

"So what's the next step?" asked Leverton, still not quite caught up but making a valiant effort to sprint into the conversation. "Arrest every Santa in London?"

"Not yet," said Sherlock, thinking to himself. "No, there's only one thing to do. It's time we paid grandpa a visit I think."


End file.
